


When One Door Opens

by orphan_account



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Book: Career of Evil, F/M, First Kiss, Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 20:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12638772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Follows directly on from COE. In which Robin make a decision to avoid future regrets. Wedding scene fix it.





	When One Door Opens

**Author's Note:**

> The setting is I imagined not as described in the book.

The flowers in the upturned vase, still swaying from their abrupt end to gravity, were the only thing moving in the now silent room. The entire congregation of the Chapple, silent, staring & with bated breath. Everyone had heard the words “I Do” spoken by Robin, they had also seen that they had been said to Strike. 

Strike, with his eyes still held by Robins could feel the room closing in around him. The ivory walls with champagne satin drapes, perfumed candles adding subtle lighting spotted on pedestals around the room, even the flowers he had just assaulted were baring down on him. 

Strike saw Robins hands drop away from Mathews, he had managed to reach behind himself finding the door handle and stepped back out, the door he had just seconds ago dared to open. His heart beating, strong and hard against his chest, he dropped his gaze from Robins, in a sign of defeat, turned and excited. 

As the door closed behind him, Strike could hear the restless whispers of those was wanting to see two people joined in Matrimony. Maybe even Strike himself would’ve been happy to see Robin married, if he didn’t think Mathew was an absolute Wanker! But who was he kidding, the look in her eyes, the words “I Do” still ringing in his ears, his feelings for her had grown well beyond professional friendship. He walked a few paces away from prying eyes.

The leaf that had drifted from a nearby oak, when Strike had excited the Chapple, had only just come to rest, on the perfectly manicured lawn, when the door behind him flew open.

Robin, still in shock of what had just occurred, had left Mathew, fuming and standing alone at the altar. “I’m coming back…just give me a minute.” She called over her bare shoulder as she raced toward the door. On lookers now freely venting their accusations, their looks of shame following her down the aisle. Before she reached the door, she turned back to search for the one person who would offer understanding, her Mum, her Mum had followed Robins and Mathews relationship through good times and bad but she had been the most supportive of Robins career aspirations and she was proud of the woman Robin had become.   
Her Mums face was easy to spot amongst the crowd, she was the only one smiling. With a sense of affirmation Robin pushed through the doors.

Robin found Strike around the corner, leaning against a wall, cigarette in hand. With his head down, refusing to be captured by her beauty, he mumbled the words “I’m sorry”.   
“Sorry for what?” she asked, still approaching him, “Sorry that you entered a room, in which you were invited?”   
Strike still averting his gaze, pissed off with himself said “I’m sorry I ruined your perfect day Robin.” She was standing directly in front of him now, her sweet, subtle sent engulfing him, oh god how he had missed her being in the office, being close to her. Robin, sensing that he was perhaps embarrassed by his clumsiness and him clearly wanting to avoid eye contact she casually lent against the wall beside him. “You haven’t ruined anything, and today wasn’t perfect anyway.” The way she said it, not sad but glum, he drew strength to look at her, she was looking right back at him but seeing the amount of discomfort he was in she quickly diverted her eyes. “Look.” She said with a hint of humor “I’m wearing the wrong shoes.” Strike scoffed back a laugh. 

Robin, searching for her own answers, turner her body towards him, tempted to softly cup her hand, a hand yet to hold a wedding band, against his bruised, troubled face and slowly direct it towards hers, was quickly squashed as she heard voices approaching them. “Cormoran.” He heard his name rolled off her tongue like liquid silk. Again, his eyes were hers to hold, “Why did you come?” The voices were at the corner now, their eyes still locked. Strike could see the desperation in her eyes now, he waited a fraction of a second before answering, the truth welling up inside of him, “I...” he turned his body to face her, leaving the security of the wall that had been holding him up, sure of what he wanted to say “I didn’t want you to...”

“Robin!” It was Mathew, he had rounded the corner furious, his tailored suit showing signs of stress, his face full of rage rather than concern or empathy for his future wife. He flung his arms to the side “What the hell are you doing?” This question was directed at the both of them. Strike chose to take a puff on his cigarette, rather than say something he may regret. Robin, now with her chest heaving with frustration, not hearing the end of what Strike had to say due to a rude interruption, put her hand up to silence Mathew. Mathew, who would not be embarrassed in front of, let’s be frank, mostly his guests grabbed for Robins elbow “You need to come with me now!” He said this to Robin but was watching Strike to see if he was about to pull some macho bullshit. Robin pushed Mathews hand off her arm. “I asked you to give me a minute.” “& I’ve given you a minute.” He shouted at her, looking at his watch in a dramatic fashion.

Strike, dropped his cigarette and put it out with his shoe. Mathew was waiting for a confrontation, an objection from Strike, but instead Strike turned his back and walked away from them. For the first time, in a very long time he felt tears welling up in his eyes. He’d been a fucking idiot. What the hell was he doing here? Shanker had seen it, he was there to stop a wedding, but he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t cause Robin pain, he wouldn’t do that to Robin, not today of all days. He had done enough of that already. Instead, he’d walk away, this day, Matthew, was what she wanted, it was Matthew that she had chosen. Cormoran felt that he had no right being there and thought bleakly of the future that lay before him.

Robin looked pained watching Cormoran walk away from her, his head down and hands thrust deep into his pockets but she didn’t move. Matthew stood there for a full minute watching his fiancé watch the man he so openly despised limp off down the path. “Robin, come with me now.” Mathew pleaded, he waited another stretch of time before adding, “Come with me now... or we’re done.” The last three words were more like a threat than a plea. Mathew stood impatiently waiting for Robin to go with him, not being able to comprehend why his future wife seemed more concerned about the oversized battered brute, who was walking away from them, rather than the handsome, chiseled man who was giving her the opportunity to become his wife. 

Although Robin wanted to pretend that the choice Mathew was giving her was a difficult one, the truth of the matter was that she had been lying to herself about wanting the wedding to go ahead. She had already sought alternative accommodation options, just in case things fell apart at the last minute. Her heart had been broken when Strike had fired her and it wasn’t just for the loss of her job. Seeing him today, how he made her feel, her heart had beaten faster and stronger when she had seen Strike enter the chapel than it had beaten standing in front of Mathew ready to exchange vowels. She looked at Mathew annoyed at herself for letting this go on for so long and annoyed at him for acting like a dick, again, and said five easy words. “Then I guess we’re done.” Leaving Mathew standing there dumbstruck she ran after Strike. Folds of satin, silk and sequins gathered over her arm, as she ran in her not so perfect shoes toward the man she was desperate for answers.

Strike headed down the path to where he guessed was the reception hall and accommodation rooms for the wedding party and, the words formed in his mind, crushing what now remained of his soul, The Bride & Groom. It was a torturous thought, picturing Robin in loves sweet embrace with, well anyone other than himself. But alas, only twenty yards now to the first of what he assumed, would be more than a few, pints and whisky’s and not necessarily in that order. 

Deep in thought of up and coming drunkenness, Strike only just picked up on the sound of someone running up behind him, he stopped and turned. “Robin?” She didn’t look sad or angry, she looked elated and in a hurry. Slowing down but still running, she ran straight past him, tiny white flowers falling from her strawberry hair. Smiling, a bit breathless and with hint of mischief playing on her face she called back to him “can you come with me now please, quickly.” Strike could feel life back in his soul “I’m not too good with quickly Robin.” Strike risked a quick glance over his shoulder bracing himself for a scene from Braveheart or the like, a charge of people led by Mathew, coming for him with any weapon they could find, candelabras, vases, hymn books but there was no one behind him, just Robin disappearing in front of him through the glass sliding doors and into the lobby. 

By the time he reached her, she had just received something from the clearly confused receptionist. The bulk of her wedding dress still draped over her arm she took a few steps walking backwards so she could face him. “this way” she said beaconing with a tilt of her head toward the back of a staircase. Strike followed his face full of curiosity and excitement. Robin hit the button on the lift, the doors opened and they stepped inside. “Robin what’s going on?” Strike asked with a slight nervous laugh.

Robin didn’t dare turn to face him, in such a confined space, she just needed another minute, then all her questions would be answered. So, she remained facing forward, her fingers twitching impatiently. She could feel Strikes eyes upon her, he had taken a step toward her closing the already small space between them. “Robin?” There was no humor to his voice now, when he spoke her name, his voice was low and soft. “I’ll explain in a minute.” She said matching the softness of his voice just as the lift doors had opened.

Robin excited the lift barely waiting long enough for the doors to fully open. Strike on the other hand didn’t move, he had only just realized what had been handed to Robin by the, (it made sense now) confused receptionist, he had been so entranced by the bareness of her shoulders, he ached to touch her, that he had only just seen that she was holding the key to the Honeymoon Suite. His heart didn’t know whether to race or to stop beating altogether. Robin reached her hand in as the lift doors were starting to close and grabbed a handful of his jacket sleeve. “Cormoran, come on!” All he could do now was follow and wait to see where all this was leading. ‘Don’t jump to conclusions just yet’ he told himself. 

The Honeymoon suit was what you would expect, a space mainly filled by a four- poster bed draped in soft fabrics, rose petals scattered on the crisp white linen. A small desk with a single chair tucked neatly under, a wardrobe with a full-length mirror acting as one of the sliding doors and, to Strikes delight a bar fridge. 

Robin had entered the room and headed straight for the wardrobe, she grabbed out a black leather overnight bag and proceeded to stuff it full of clothing, she then ran into the bathroom, came out with a matching black toiletry bag and threw it in with the other things. Lastly, she removed her engagement ring from her finger dropped it into the bag and zipped it shut. Picking the bag up as if by the scruff of the neck, she tossed it out into the corridor slammed the door and locked it.

Meanwhile, Strike had found a window ledge to lean against and waited patiently for her to finish whatever it was that she felt necessary to do. The removal of the engagement ring however had his entire body buzzing with delight. The door slammed and Robin finally turned to face him. Absolute relief showed in her face and body language.

Strike watched her silently as she slowly walked towards him, her dress now trailing behind her, his hands by his side gripping the windowsill.

Robin forced herself to stop about two feet away from the man she so desperately wanted to hold, she needed to compose herself if she wanted some answers. She knew that Strike wouldn’t make the first move and she wanted to instigate and guide the conversation. 

“I’ll deal with this in a moment” she said making a gesture to her wedding dress “but first of all, with no interruptions” she made another gesture to the space around them, “you can finish what you were going to tell me.” Strike held her gaze “all this? All this, so I can finish a sentence?” Robin took half a step towards him “It’s very important to me that I hear the end of that sentence. “Let me help you” she continued “you said, ‘I don’t want you to...” she prompted him with her eyes for him to continue “Robin, what I wanted to say and what I was going to say are two different things.” “Okay then, well let’s start with the first, what were you going to say?” Strike looked down at the floor “I don’t want you to...to think that I had forgotten about you, I don’t want to let you down, BUT” he added quickly and taking a large step towards her, taking in the beauty of her face, “It wouldn’t have been fair of me to say what I wanted to say, not on your wedding day.” 

“Well it’s not my wedding day anymore, so?” She left the sentence hanging. Strike trying to relieve some of the tension between them asked “By the way, why didn’t you return my calls?”  
“What calls?” she asked puzzled. Strike pleased for the change of topic said “I tried calling a few times, I even left you a message asking you to come back to work.” Then it dawned on them both at the same time “Bloody Mathew!” They had said it in unison, a look of understanding passed between them and they drew closer together. “So, you want me to come back to work?” she said twisting a length of hair around her finger and putting on her broadest accent “You would then need me to act all professional and not do anything risky?” 

Strike could only manage a half- hearted acknowledgement as the seduction in her eyes melted his resolve. Robin closed the last remaining space between them, she reached up to loosen his tie, their faces only inches apart, he felt her delicate fingers unfasten the buttons on his shirt, she placed one hand against his chest and slid the other to the back of his neck holding firm to a handful for hair. Bringing his ear to her mouth and whispered “But right now, I’m still fired, right?” 

Strike had managed to stay motionless until that moment, he didn’t want to make a move unless he was invited. Robins mouth brushing across his earlobe, the sweet scent of her skin was all too much, his arm wrapped around her slender waist he drew her into him, his other hand touched the skin he had been longing to touch, he traced along her bare shoulders, up the side of her neck and under her chin, ever so gently directing her mouth to his. Both with soft gentle lips, slightly parted and eyes closed but when Robins tongue brushed his lower lip their eyes opened and the passionate kiss of two people in love engulfed them. 

Strike soaked up every sensation of her body pressed firmly against his, the taste of her, the sound of her moan responding to his large hands holding her body to his, savoring the stinging sensation of her nails digging into the flesh on his back, he knew sounds of pleasure were emanating from him also as they embraced, Robin responded by bringing up one leg, wrapping her ankle across his backside pulling even closer still. At this point they were basically having sex, still fully dressed, the massive four-poster bed mere meters away.

Still standing together, Strike was no longer wearing a shirt and from where Robins hands were leading, he would soon be without pants. He ran his hands up the length of her back, looking for a starting point to the complicated hooks and buttons that would release her perfect alabaster body from the physical and mental restraints of her wedding dress.

Robin decided that he could keep his pants on, for now, instead turning for him, so he could rid her of this bloody dress. She pulled her hair to the side and instantly felt his lips and tongue against her skin. “Fuck you taste delicious” he moaned against her bare shoulder blades, his thick fingers struggling with the tiny fastenings. The back of her dress was starting to fold open, inch by painstaking inch he spilt a waterfall of kisses on her newly exposed skin, right down to the small of her back.

They were only moments away from being connected as one, years of conflicting feelings, pent up sexual tension, reveling that they had both, with no intentions, had fallen deeply and besotted, in love. Raw primal, instincts of wanting to fuck, right there and then. Slow, sensual, love making could wait, right now it would be two frantic bodies entwined, seeking out every inch of each other, sticky, salty, frantic sex.

But just as Robins dress had fallen away from her body, there was a sound that had them frozen on the spot. 

DING. It was the sound a lift makes just as it’s reached its destination. It was promptly followed by shouting and cursing. Matthew had just found his overnight bag. He banged his fists on the door.  
Robin reached down, picking up her dress and holding it firmly against her naked torso.

Both Robin and Strike stood in silence and waited for Matthew to extinguish his Rage. She didn’t have it in her to shout back at him and she didn’t want Cormoran to fight this battle for her. She had made her bed and now all she wanted to do was to lie in it, with a man who had just saved her from a future of inevitable roller-coaster rides and petty domestic disputes about work.

For those beautiful albeit brief moments with Cormoran she had seen a straight and stable future. Once she had been embraced by him, the firm secure touch of his hands, not only lust but love reflected back to her, she knew the love she had once felt for Matthew (and she didn’t lie to herself, she knew she had loved him, a long time ago) would never compare to the deep depths of her love for the man standing behind her.

Sadly, the reality of it all had reached them, they still showed tenderness but it was clear that the erotic session that had been but moments away for them had faded. They looked around at their surrounding and together had come to the conclusion that here and now was not the right time.   
In saying that, if it hadn’t been for the DING of the lift they would both be getting far more acquainted with the taste and movements of each-others bodies.

Strike sat down in the chair and rested his elbows on the small table while Robin changed into jeans and a tee shirt. Strike looked down at the trainers on her feet. “Were they pre-planned?”. He asked playingly. “I don’t remember even packing them, if I’m honest.” She replied matter of fact “Maybe my sub conscious knew what I needed to do before I did.” She walked over to him, placed her arm around his shoulder and kissed his head. “Thank you, my knight in shining armor.” Strike blurted an uncontrollable laugh “Ha” He pointed to his bruised eye “I have a shiner, but I don’t have any armor.” He stood up and looked into her astonished blue eyes, his voice softened “I use to have armor, around my heart, but you melted it away.” He lent down and kissed her mouth pulling away before the moment became too intense, letting his forehead rest against hers “You’re welcome and thank you, Robin Ellacott.”


End file.
